Queen Among Mortals
by Canbya
Summary: When Susan Pevensie went to America, she encountered more than tea parties. Thrown into a world of Greeks, Susan must join forces with demigods if she is to stop the destruction of both Narnia and Earth in order to lead the Lost Narnians home. Though the path set before her is clear, the way is not easy and in the end she may lose that which matters most.
1. Only the Beginning of the Adventure

**Chapter 1: Only the Beginning of the Adventure**

_In Which Susan Battles the Minotaur and Medusa_

* * *

Susan was supposed to be the lucky child, however, she could not be convinced of this in the present moment. She almost envied Lucy and Edmund. Drinking her too sweet, too milky tea, she reflected that truly Peter was the most fortunate of the four. A whole summer with the Professor. Having never been one for books – the library at the Cair, had been her and Edmund's domain – the High King's patience was most certainly being tested as he studied for the entrance examination. But her own, once world renowned, patience was wearing thin. Really she would much prefer to listen to her father's lecture yet again then join another society gathering.

Truly, who did these Americans think they were? Bemoaning the war and the hardships it caused them personally. Yes, sugar was more scarce; not scarce enough in her humble opinion as she sipped her tea. But it was hardly as though their homes had been reduced to smoking craters in after an air raid. The comfort of the Atlantic Ocean between the them and Hitler made these women soft. They knew nothing of the trials of war. Let alone of the bloodlust of battle as they spoke of far off conflicts.

Yet she was a gracious queen, even if in exile. If she could host unsavory delegates from the northern Giants, and the despicable Calormene ambassador in the aftermath of Rabadash, she could sip her excuse for tea and smile demurely as her mother encouraged her to socialize. If she could listen to the seemingly endless and sometimes quite petty petitions of the diverse Narnians, she could endure these women. Her gentle heart still knew the words that would give greatest comfort.

Yet as she sat surrounded by women, something was wrong. It was subtle and if pressed to explain, she would have few words to adequately describe her irritation. It itched under her skin, like the Deep Magic, but instead of the calming exhilaration she associated with the Deep Magic, she felt a sense of danger similar to fear that cloaked Narnia in the Long Winter. Despite the urgency of danger, she could not detect any sinister intent like the evil that Jadis's magic permeated. After long deliberation, whilst one woman, Mrs. Willis, told Susan about all five of her sons serving in the American army, she likened the sensation to the crackle in the air before lightning struck, though much prolonged.

Then at last, Susan could hear the sounds of a hunt. A hunt where humans were the prey. It was distant, far in the shadows of the trees that lined the garden. None of the other women seemed to notice the commotion. Only Susan's well trained ears could discern the faint shouts of 'Hurry!' and 'He's gaining on us.' She extracted herself from her conversation with Mrs. Willis, and quickly sought out her mother.

"By yourself?" questioned Mrs. Pevensie when Susan said she wanted to go on a quick walk through the woods. "Please tell me, that some girl your age has decided to join you."

"Mum, I just want to go one a short walk, get the blood flowing. I won't be long."

"But Susan–"

"I'll be fine. It's not as though I'll get lost or Nazis are lurking around." With that Susan turned around before her mother could give further protest. Her mother gave a loud sigh, but made no move to stop her.

Once in the safety of the wood's shadows, Susan began to run at a brisk pace. She cursed modern fashion as her ill fitting skirt tore in her haste to locate the origin of the cries. After tumbling far too many times, she cast off her high heals and ran barefoot, ignoring the protest of her tender soles. Although her legs were shorter than they had once been, she keep quick pace as she the sounds of distress grew louder.

Susan quickly came to a small clearing. In the center, three figures were gripping their knees trying to catch their breath. It was most peculiar as all three boys were wearing armor that was archaic even by Narnian standards. One boy wore a quiver of arrows, yet he had no obvious bow. Before she could debate revealing herself to them, a minotaur charged into the clearing. In the moment Susan looked away towards the minotaur and back at the boys, they had changed stances. They bore weapons they had not had before. The taller boy, with shaggy brown hair, now had a bow to match his quiver. The boy with short cropped blonde hair held a bronze sword that glowed faintly. The third boy, who was not a boy but rather a faun, started to frantically play a reed flute.

Susan watched in fascination as vines half-heartedly grew around the minotaur's leg. The two boys fought gallantly, but it was obvious they were exhausted. Even in Narnia it had taken the best trained warriors to confront the minotaurs that pillaged villages and small towns in the early years of their reign. The minotaur swung his club in a wide arc. The blonde boy ducked but his partner was not so lucky. The boy holding the bow went flying through the air, loosing both his bow and arrows. He landed with a sickening thud that made Susan wince.

But she quickly noticed that his bow, and three arrows landed only a few feet away from her. She drew upon battle honed instinct, enhanced by restored youth, to launch herself forward. She somersaulted picking up both the bow and an arrow. Quickly bounding out of her roll, she paused long enough to pull the string taunt and aim. With unerring grace she released the arrow. The single moment slowed down to a crawl, as everyone watched the arrow arc through the ether.

Aim perfect as always, Susan was not surprised when the arrow reached its intended target, burrowing deep into the minotaur's heart. She was not, however, expecting the beast to explode into dust leaving nothing behind except a single horn. And three gaping boys.

"How–" "Who–"

Susan smiled as she thought of how she must appear to them; her dress was torn, her bare feet covered in scratches and her long black hair filled with dirt and leaves from her attack.

"Susan. My name is Susan Pevensie," said Susan gently. Her smile disappeared as she asked, "By the Lion's Mane, whatever is going on? Who are you? And what is a minotaur doing in this world?"

"You don't know?" asked the owner of the bow incredulously, as he slowly sat up, groaning. The other boy hurried over, and pulling a bottle out his pocket, gave the injured boy a small sip. The effects where not unlike those of Lucy's cordial. The boy seemed to instantly heal.

"Know what?" retorted Susan, raising her eyebrows.

"Have you ever heard about the Greek gods?" asked the taller boy, who's sword and shield had disappeared in a moment when Susan was not paying attention.

"Yes," she replied, thinking back to the thick tomes on mythology that she consumed to assuage her grief whilst at the Professor's house when first ejected from Narnia.

"Well, in a nutshell, they're real. In fact most of the myths are. We're demigods," explained the boy who had cropped blond hair. "I'm Jake Cresswell, son of Athena."

"And I'm Tyler Jackson, son of Apollo," said the brown haired bloke. Ruffling his hair Tyler asked, "And that's Woody." He gestured to the faun. "He's a -"

"Faun, I know," finished Susan.

"Actually I was going to say satyr, but faun works too I guess. So if you've never, well known about this mythical stuff, how in Hades did you do that trick with my bow?"

"A tale for another day," deflected Susan, handing the bow back to Tyler, who then set about collecting his fallen arrows. "So why were you being attacked by a minotaur? I know that they look rather gruesome, but I've never known one to attack for no reason."

"I don't know what minotaurs you're talking about, but the Minotaur, as in the original one, attacks any demigods it can find. That's what all monsters do," said Jake.

"So what does–" Susan began to question, but she was interrupted by Woody.

"She's coming!"

"Who?" Jake, Tyler, and Susan asked in unison.

"Medusa, I told you we hadn't lost her."

"Well that's not good," muttered Susan, wishing for her bow. The gift from the first Christmas would have been easy to fire with her eyes shut, if the legends about Medusa were true.

"Don't worry, Athena always has a plan," assured Jake. "Tyler, give Susan your bow. She's better than you." Tyler handed the bow back to Susan, along with his quiver. "First, remember, keep your eyes close no matter what." Susan, Tyler and Woody nodded. "Now this is what we're going to do. Let's see if we can't get some intelligence from her first."

Susan barely had enough time to climb into the tree, and steady herself on the lowest thick branch before Medusa walked into the clearing. Perched above, she would be safe unless Medusa's gaze found her in the tree. She held an arrow loaded, ready to fire as soon as Jake came the signal.

Medusa was not what Susan was expecting. She had thought that Medusa as the daughter of two primordial sea gods would look like the water nymphs of Narnia. Instead it was a tall woman wearing a black trench coat, with a silky scarf wrapped around her head, and thick sunglasses who stepped into the clearing.

"Close your eyes!" shouted Jake, even though all but Susan had already closed their eyes.

"And deny the world of your pretty grey eyes?" muttered Medusa. "Do you really think that you could escape me, demigods? That I didn't know who destroyed my collection? How foolish."

Medusa walked casually among the three Greeks. She unwrapped her head to reveal the snakeheads that mythology remembered her for. Each snake, an entity of itself, sprawled outwards in a bizarre halo. Medusa stopped in front of Woody, her long manicured finger tracing his cheek bones.

"Oh look, a satyr. A perfect beginning for my collection," purred Medusa. "Satyrs always make the best statues."

Susan could not help but flinch remembering the stories and her own history. In a single moment she was back in the White Witch's endless courtyard. Mr. Tumnus, suddenly seemed no more than an arm's reach away. Upon hearing Medusa's voice again, she shook the memories away. "Oh come on, you didn't really think that you and your friends had a chance at stopping the Mistress?"

"What do you know about the Mistress?" asked Jake.

"What does it matter what I know? Now come on Son of Athena, open your eyes for me. Let me see the eyes that did this to me!" But Susan did not hesitate. With the same deadly precision that had slain the minotaur Susan released an arrow. A short gasp was followed by a sickening thud, before Medusa, like the minotaur, was reduced to dust, her head remaining on the ground.

"You were supposed to wait for my signal," said Jake when she was back on the ground.

"No one turns others into stone statues on my watch," replied Susan haughty to mask her own fears and insecurities nearly two decades old.

"Yes, but now we don't know anything more about the Mistress."

"I will not apologize for valuing your life more than information about a mysterious Mistress. You may not appreciate the hardships of turning into stone, but I know many who have been statues for nigh a century."

"By the Lion," muttered Woody.

"What?" asked Tyler as he carefully picked up the head of Medusa that he had wrapped up.

"You said 'By the Lion's Mane' early. You called me a faun. And you said you had never seen a minotaur in _this_ world." Woody pointed to Susan. "And the Bow! By the Lion Mane indeed!"

Susan smiled as Tyler asked again. "Woody, what are you talking about?"

"You're Queen Susan of the Bow, Gentle Lady of Cair Paravel," announced Woody, genuflecting onto one knee. "Your Majesty! We have long awaited your coming."

"You know of Narnia?" asked Susan.

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Woody. "I have been born many times, but the memories remain. Once I was known as Belarus. Your sister, Queen Lucy, was very near to my Uncle Tumnus."

She asked, "But how is this possible?" but the two demigods drowned out her question with, "What is going on?"

"It is a long story, and we better get moving before more monsters sense our presence," said Woody hurriedly, still looking at her with starstruck eyes.

"I best return to my parents," she said, "if you no longer require my assistance."

"Wait," said Jake. "I don't know who you are, but I think you should come to Camp with us."

"I really should get back to my parents. Though I have no idea how I am to explain this," she gestured vaguely to her ruined outfit.

"But, you're obviously very well trained with a bow, and you can see through the Mist. I don't know who you are, but I'd prefer to have you on our side of this war," said Tyler.

"I can't just leave my family wondering where I am," protested Susan. "And I've had enough of war thank you very much."

"You're from England aren't you?" asked Jake. Susan nodded. "The war in Europe is a reflection of the war between demigods. If we lose, then Hitler wins."

"Aslan would not have guided you to us, if He did not intend for you to join us," said Woody.

"But what of my family? This is not exactly a jaunt into Narnia where we return unchanged. Time is passing even as we speak now." All three gave her quizzical looks. "Oh, Belarus, I remember when you were born and yet physically I am only fourteen. Surely you know what year of my reign you were born, even if you cannot remember me personally."

"I had wondered why you looked so young," admitted Woody.

"Don't worry about your parents," said Jake. "The Mist will take care of it. I doubt they will even notice you are gone."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Susan very nearly said no, but unbidden her vow to always follow Aslan bubbled up. Since returning to Earth, it had been harder to discern the Lion's Will, but could this faun be correct? Could Aslan have guided her this far? And if He had, was she not duty bound as Queen to follow Him further. Aslan who loved her and her family.

_'Oh Aslan, speak your servant is listening. If this is the path you deign, then it is the path I choose.'_

May she imagined it, but she was a woman of faith. A sudden breeze wrapped around her. A breath of Narnian summer engulfed her. Her choice was made.

"I will join you."

* * *

AN: I have started to write Chapter 2, however I am extremely busy with school work, so I can't guarantee that it will be up any time soon. I am aiming to have a new chapter every Monday though. This has not been beta'd so any critical reviews are welcome.


	2. Can't Take It In

**Chapter 2: Can't Take It In**

_In Which Susan, Woody, Tyler and Jake Exchange Stories_

* * *

"But that should be impossible," protested Jake after Susan recounted in brief how she and her siblings first entered into Narnia as they walked through the woods. "Other worlds completely separate from this one don't exist!"

"Says the son of a god," muttered Tyler. "I think that's awesome. If Greek gods can be real, why can't Narnia?"

"I do not claim to understand how it all works," confessed Susan. "Aslan is probably the only being in all existence to truly understand."

"And this Aslan, is he a god?" asked Jake. "From another pantheon perhaps?"

Woody looked ready to hit Jake for the mere suggestion. "Aslan is King Above Kings, Ruler Above All Gods. His power is absolute and His ways indeterminable but He reigns over all creations, even the Greek gods, with endless love and mercy."

"The Greek gods, if the legends are true, are nothing more than immortal manifestations of humanity. While they represent the best of humanity they are completed with our flaws and imperfections. Aslan is the model from which we are all made. We are imitations of his beauty, his perfection," explained Susan after a moment's reflection. "I have met a few gods before and none would place themselves equal to the Lion."

"But does he exist in this world?"

"Aslan exists in all worlds, though He has many names. It was my duty to discover His name in this world." Susan winced as her foot met a particularly sharp rock. "How far away is this Camp of yours?"

"Two, maybe three days away," replied Jake with a shrug.

"Three days?" she asked incredulously. Dress torn, hair wild, bow and quiver slung over her shoulder and hands placed firmly on her hips she looked every inch the Savage Queen that Rabadash had accused her of being.

"Yeah," drawled Tyler, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Is that a problem?" sputtered Susan. "Yes it bloody well is a problem! I don't have any shoes." Tyler and Jake both had the decency to blush appropriately. Woody, in typical Narnian fashion, did not seem to understand what the need for shoes was.

"What are you doing running around without shoes?"

"I was wearing shoes, however high heels are not well suited to running in the woods. I kicked them off, that I would reach you in time."

"Why didn't you say so before?" Jake opened a pouch that he wore around his waist. He reached his hand way deeper than the dimensions of the pouch would normally have allowed for. He fumbled for a few moments, feeling around what appeared to be a rather large space. Then he withdrew a pair of hunting boots that logically could not have fit within the pouch. "Got these from the Camp store, so they should fit no problem."

Susan leaned on Woody for support as she put the boots on. At first they were too large, but after a moment they changed size to fit her feet. It that way they were similar to the boots made by the Dwarves she had worn in Narnia, though they did not fit quite as well.

"You have a pouch that defies the logical proportions, but you doubt that a country could exist inside a wardrobe?" asked Susan drily. "I think it's time that you told me a bit more about the Greek gods. I only know what legends tell us."

"Don't look at me. I just found out I was a demigod and all last month. Only spent a week at Camp before getting this stupid mission," said Tyler.

"What do you want to know?" asked Jake.

"Earlier you said, '_The war in Europe is a reflection of the war between demigods. If we lose, then Hitler wins._' What did you mean by that?"

"Every conflict in the immortal world has been paralleled by a conflict in the mortal world. The current war in Europe, that threatens to engulf the entire world, is a reflection of the war that currently divides demigods," explained Jake. After a moment's reflection he continued, "Most demigods, like us, go to Camp Half-Blood and we represent the Allies. A smaller, but unfortunately powerful, faction of demigods have chosen to follow the Mistress. We're not sure who the Mistress is, but we do know that like all megalomaniacs, she wants world domination and she's willing to do anything to get to it. If she wins this war, then well, Hitler wins too."

"She wants to rule the world? Isn't that a bit of a broad goal?" questioned Susan. Even the White Witch was content to rule a single country.

"We think that's her goal. Truth be told we really don't know," interjected Woody. "Though there have been rumors."

"Rumors?" asked Jake. "What rumors? And why hasn't anyone told me?"

"Among the Narnians, it's been whispered that she wants–" Woody paused. "She claims to be the true Queen of Narnia. She apparently has found a way to return to Narnia and she wants to reclaim the throne."

"The White Witch also claimed to be the true queen of Narnia. What I do not comprehend, Belarus, is how you came to be here in this world. Just how many Narnians are in this world?" asked Susan gently.

"It is impossible to know how many Narnians crossed over," he said. "And the story, the story is most shameful."

"Belarus, my brother was traitor to all of Narnia, but he never once shied from the truth of his actions. I need to know. How did you come to this world?"

"Your Majesty, when you and your siblings disappeared without a trace, all of Narnia searched for you. Even the Stars, though distant they were, joined in. For a year and a day, we refused to mourn you as we actively sought you. Then Aslan returned to Narnia and announced that He had returned you to the land of your birth. He then decreed that Narnia would continue as it had in the past with a single sovereign. Prince Corin, who was once raised to be King, was elected by the Council of Elders to be ruler of Narnia, such that Narnia and Archeld would again share the same royal blood. Though the Golden Age had ended in the eyes of the poets, times were not bad in Narnia.

"However there were many who let their love of Your Majesties blind them to their love of Aslan. It took many years but by my thirteenth year, the Cult had found a way to create a breach between our worlds. Forgive me, Your Majesty, for I was young and I was foolish. I wanted to be the hero that returned you to the Thrones. It was a dark ritual derived from the few artifacts left by the White Witch, but we would let nothing deter us from retrieving you.

"When we succeeded, Aslan appeared in all His rage, for truly He is not a tame lion. He chastised us for not trusting in him. He warned us of the hardships we would face in this world were we did not belong. Still we were undeterred. So he cursed any Beast who stepped between worlds. We would be barred from His Country, living again and again, until the Monarchs were found.

"It was only when we crossed over and each found their self alone that the enormous mistake we made dawned upon us. We had wronged Aslan, and patiently we have born the curse. Some longer than others. I have only been in this world for five centuries, but others have been here since the dawn of time in this world. But now that you have returned, our salvation is near at hand for you can lead us back to Narnia."

"Wow, that sounds rough," said Tyler breaking the pensive moment that fell when Woody had finished his story.

"I do not claim to understand Aslan's ways, but I doubt that either Peter or I will be able to lead you back to Narnia." Susan's gaze fell past Woody, as she stared ahead into the distance.

"But you have to! We came all this way to find you four so that you might return to Narnia."

"Return to Narnia, we already have," she admitted softly. "Last summer, Aslan called us back to a darker Narnia than the one we left. It was our mission, our duty to see that King Caspian was established on the throne. Once our task was complete, Aslan took Peter and me aside and told us that we would never return to Narnia."

"But what of King Edmund and Queen Lucy?"

She wanted to say, '_Though the Lion's Ways are not our own, I cannot help but feel that it is unlikely_,' however she was unwilling to crush the hope that faun held onto. She merely replied, "It is possible."

"How does having four monarchs work?" asked Tyler suddenly. "Even the gods only recognize one king and queen in Zeus and Hera."

"And we often wondered how having just two monarchs could possibly work." Susan laughed. Indeed there was so much work to be done in running the magical kingdom smoothly, that none of them had time to pause. "Peter was High King, but we were all equal sovereigns in our right. Mainly we each attended to our own duties. When a decision was required of all of us, we would take council, and even if it took weeks, we would come to a unanimous decision."

Tyler looked ready to ask another question, but a loud shriek interrupted him, as a large gryphon landed thirty feet ahead blocking their path. Jake and Tyler scrambled into battle mode, but Susan just stared in disbelief. Woody began to play his reeds, but Susan quieted him with a small gesture of her hand. She then moved to stand in front of the two demigods.

"Lady Windlass?" she questioned, recognizing her friend and confident. "Is that you?"

"Your Majesty?" the gryphon dropped into a formal bow. "How I have longed to see you."

"Please rise, my lady." Susan wanted to stepped forward and embrace the gryphon matron who had been like a mother to her in the early years of her reign. But she restrained herself remembering the honor of the gryphons. "My heart is much gladden to see you."

"As is my heart to see you, yet I am unworthy." Lady Windlass remained in her humble bow. She did, however, raise her eyes to look upon her monarch. Susan returned her gaze with a royal look of command, reminiscent of their later years on the throne. The gryphon rose to stand proud before her queen.

"What brings you here?" questioned Susan. She decided to forsake the gryphons traditions and wrapped her arms around Lady Windlass. For her part, the magnificent beast endured this break in decorum. Woody would later claim, that she even gave an indulgent smile before she replied.

"Woe, a tale of great treachery." Lady Windlass eased herself out of Susan's embrace.

"A tale, I heard earlier this day. I meant, what brings you to this particular place at this very moment," clarified Susan.

"For many years I have slept without dream, but last night Aslan granted me a vision, my first since crossing into this wretched world. Having betrayed Aslan once, I knew I had no choice but to follow His directions."

"Oh, the Lion has been busy," muttered Susan. Then turning to Tyler and Jake. "May I present, Lady Windlass Countess of the Western Woods, a dear old fried of mine?" Turning back to Lady Windlass, "May I present to you, Woody once called Belarus, Tyler Son of Apollo and Jake Son of Athena?"

"Demigods," Lady Windlass growled. "Belarus? The same who rode Stormeye in the Battle of Northern Rocks?"

Woody nodded meekly. Susan gave him a sharp glance. Battle of Northern Rocks, was not a story to survive the Telmarines, but she would do well to hear the tale. Later of course, when they had time.

"Aslan led me to these demigods, who in turn have led me to you," said Susan. "We are making our way towards Camp Half-Blood."

"Camp Half-Blood?" asked Lady Windlass incredulously. "But that's a good five day hike!"

"Five days?" Susan asked looking at Jake.

"We could have made it in three if we didn't stop," protested Jake.

"You would have her Majesty walk all the way to Camp Half-Blood, as some commoner?" asked the gryphon. "I now understand why Aslan sent me here."

"Why?" asked Belarus.

"Time is of the essence, I could fly you there easily by sunset," explained Lady Windlass. "It would be an honor to once more fly a monarch, even if this is not necessarily a battle, it is war."

"Your aid would be most appreciated," said Susan.

Lady Windlass genuflected such that Susan could take her mount. Woody quickly bounded up as well, to sit comfortably behind Susan. However before Jake or Tyler could mount, Lady Windlass stood up, and stretched out her wings.

"Only those who have passed their Rites may ride a gryphon," said Woody in explanation.

"I will carry you," said Lady Windlass before grabbing hold of the two demigods in her claws and launching powerfully into the air.

Once they reached a stable altitude, Susan closed her eyes. Letting the air wave her tangled hair as a banner, she could almost believe herself in Narnia again.

'_Aslan, guide me_," she prayed, as the miles slipped below. '_Watch over my parents, and keep them safe_."

* * *

**AN**: Against all odds, I am not dead! This took me far longer to post than I had originally planned and I apologize. These last few weeks were far more chaotic than I imagined could be possible. (If it gains me any sympathy, I am not above revealing that a trip to the ER in an ambulance was involved.) However medical emergencies, midterms, and Ballon Fiesta are all behind me, so I should be able to post more frequently (though no promises).

If I'm honest, I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter, but all the critical information has been dumped (and I do apologize for the information dump). I will probably come back and tidy this chapter up, but in the meantime it is time to move on to Chapter 3.


	3. The Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 3: The Calm Before the Storm  
**_In Which A Quest Is Given_

* * *

Though the flight lasted only a few hours, Susan was very stiff when Lady Windlass landed in a small field. She pitied Jake and Tyler who spent the entire journey dangling from Lady Windlass's talons. Dismounting from the gryphon she was unsurprised to see them lying ragged on the ground.

"I can take you no further," said Lady Windlass. "May Aslan guide your feet the rest of your journey."

"As He guides your wings," Susan completed the age old blessing between gryphon and rider. "Where do you intend to go now?"

"I intend to spread word that the Monarchs Four have returned. Aslan shall guide me from hence."

"Lion's speed to you."

"Lion's heart to you. I sense a struggle unlike any other in your near future."

"I, too, feel the heavy weight. But I trust that the Lion will be with me every step of the way."

"Never abandon the Lion and He will never abandon you," Lady Windlass quoted the proverb that burned in the hearts of the Narnians in the midst of the coldest days of Winter. "Now I must depart."

"Belarus, are you coming?" Susan asked the satyr still perched on Lady Windlass.

"I feel that my duty is to accompany Lady Windlass," said Woody. "That is, if the Lady would have me as her rider?"

"I would be honored to have you has my rider, Belarus, hero of Northern Rocks. I will see you soon my Queen."

"Aslan keep you both." Susan waved gracefully as Lady Windlass gave a powerful thrust and launched into the sky. In less than a minute they were both gone from sight. Susan wandered over to where Tyler and Jake laid. She gently shook them, but neither woke. With a slight grin, she slapped Tyler hard across the cheeks.

"What? Are we there?" he grumbled. Sitting up, dazed, he stretched his sore muscles. He fumbled for a few minutes before pulling out the mysterious liquid. He took a small sip. Again he seemed to heal, though observing with a more critical eye, Susan could not help but notice its effects were less complete than Lucy's cordial. Tyler than gave Jake a small sip that roused him from his exhausted state.

"Did you have to slap so hard?" asked Tyler, rubbing his cheek.

"That was nothing," replied Susan thinking back on the bruises that many suitors sported when they attempted to take liberties with the Gentle Queen. "Be grateful my brothers did not have the joyous task of bringing you to consciousness."

"Where's the gryphon? Where's Woody?" asked Jake, standing up on uneasy legs.

"They have taken flight in Aslan's name," said Susan. "We shall see them when Aslan decrees it so. However now we must continue forward to your camp."

"It's just there," Tyler pointed towards a small hill. "Now was it really necessary for the beast to carry us the whole way? Why couldn't we ride as well?"

"That _Beast_ was a noble knight of Narnia, a close companion to my siblings and me. It would besmirch her honor and thus my honor as her sovereign for her to bear the weight of those who have no proven their honor equal to hers," explained Susan testily. "Besides, even the most talented of gryphons could not carry two untrained riders at such speeds."

Susan felt a pinch of magic as they crossed the boundary into Camp Half-Blood. There was nothing definite to define the change, but Susan knew without doubt that they were in another world. Not a world so separate as Narnia but somehow another world all the same.

"Did you give her permission to enter?" Jake asked Tyler.

"No," answered Tyler. "Are the Camp defenses down?"

"No, I don't think so." After concentrating for a moment, he added "Everything seems to be in order."

"Hmm," Tyler shrugged. "Well, I guess we should go to the Big House."

It was not too long before they reached the encampment itself. Themed cabins surrounded a large hearth. Susan spared a moment to connect the cabins with the gods and goddesses that she recalled from her studies of the Greek and later Roman myths. Apollo's own golden cabin brought a smile to her lips. As they walked through the camp she could feel the eyes of various demigods focusing on her. She wondered what they would make of her, a mere mortal and yet so much more than an ordinary commoner. A small crowd had gathered by the time the trio reached large but else wise ordinary farmhouse.

"Queen Susan?" questioned the centaur standing on the front porch. When Susan drew closer, he exclaimed, "Queen Susan!" and then knelt down in front of the Gentle Queen, Susan lifted her hand to cover an undignified gasp. Standing in front of her was none other than Chiron, a Captain who served in King Edmund's Army, second cousin of Oreuis. "How it gladdens my heart to see you once again."

"Please rise my friend," said Susan, sounding rather chocked, raising her arms, "I am no queen in this world."

"Did Aslan not say 'Once a King or Queen, always a King or Queen'?" said Chiron, rising to accept Susan's heartfelt embrace. The stepping back he asked, "Where are your siblings royal?"

"In England," said Susan, conscious of the crowd of intrigued demigods, "For we were born and raised in London. It is only by chance that I am in America. My parents could afford to bring one of us, so I was chosen. Though now I suspect, it is all part of Aslan's plan."

Chiron glanced around at the considerable crowd. "We best move this conversation inside, Your Majesty." He gestured Susan towards the front door. To the gawking demigods he shouted, "Back to work with you!" Then as an afterthought, he added, "You best come in too," to Jake, and Tyler.

Chiron directed them into a small front room that was decorated with an eclectic selection of mismatched furniture. Jake and Tyler sat on two camp chairs; Susan settled onto on side of an overstuffed love seat. A moment later, Chiron entered the room with a young woman wearing an impossible collage of colors.

"Queen Susan, may I introduce our Oracle in residence, Jennifer Hale," Chiron introduced the blonde woman who then sat on the love seat next to Susan.

"My Queen, it is an honor to meet you," said Jennifer, before adding in afterthought, "I would have thought that you would have been a bit older though."

"Yes, I too, thought that you would be older," admitted Chiron. "You are far younger than you were when I last saw you, indeed you can't be much older than you were for the Battle of Beruna. How is this possible?"

"When we returned through the Wardrobe, we found that no time had passed in this world and that we were unchanged in body. It has been two years since we first returned from Narnia."

"First returned? When did you return from Narnia again?" asked the Oracle.

"Last summer."

"And your brother is only a year older than you?"

"Yes."

"Then how did a mere teenager overcome Miraz in single combat? His skill was legendary."

"My brother is no mere teenager. The skill of the High King who fought with the blessing of Aslan cannot be matched by a tyrant and usurper of Narnia. Am I correct to say that you are a Telemarine or perhaps a descent of the Telemarines?"

"I was born in Narnia, though I have few recollections," admitted Jennifer. "I was only six when my parents chose to go through the Door in the Air. My birth name was Jenipra, but I changed it to better fit in with this world. This summer marks the twentieth year, since my family crossed over. That is why I thought you would be older. But now I see that Aslan did not deliver us to the same times."

"We wondered what happened to the Telemarines who chose to come here," said Susan. "Though we never imagined that we would encounter one."

"It is not as unlikely as one would think," postulated Jen. "Magic calls to Magic, even if the Magic itself is different, hence the tangling of Greek mythology and Lost Narnians."

"However, we shall have to speculate later. More urgent matters attend us," interrupted Chiron.

"Yes, Woody mentioned that the Mistress may be a pretender to the Narnian throne," said Susan.

"There is no may about it," confessed Chiron. "All our sources agree, the Mistress intends to take Narnia by force by ripping a barrier between worlds."

"But how? Do you think she intends to use the same Ritual that," Susan paused. She continued, "That the Lost Narnians used? Is it possible that same Ritual would work in this world as it worked in Narnia?"

"No, that Ritual could only be used once. In His rage, Aslan destroyed all the artifacts and manuscripts that were required to create such a portal," said Chiron. "It is our current theory that the Mistress wants to use a Ritual from Charn that would require an artifact from the world to which one wants to travel to – in this case Narnia. This ritual would also require sacrificial blood to generate the power needed to rip about the barrier between worlds. We suspect the Mistress wishes to use the blood of three powerful demigods."

"Charn? But I was under the impression that Charn was a dead world?" protested Susan. "And what artifact of Narnia has crossed into this world? My siblings and I were never able to bring anything with us. The closet artifact I can conjure is the wardrobe, but strictly speaking while connected to Narnia, it is not in itself an artifact of Narnia."

"You may not have been able to bring with you anything of Narnian origin, but the Telemarines had everything they carried. My parents alone had a trunk full of things from Narnia," said Jennifer.

"So the Mistress has found an artifact of Narnian origin. But the blood of three demigods? Do you mean to say that three demigods are missing? Or do you think that the Mistress has enthralled them willingly?" questioned Susan, thinking to Edmund who was to be the Witch's sacrifice.

"Wait, if the blood of three demigods is required, why are four missing?" interrupted Jake. "I mean, that's why you think they're missing?"

"Yes," said Chiron, his voice heavy with the weight of all his years. "Miri was with Bianca when they both vanished. It is most likely that she is dead."

"What can we do? How much time do we have left?" asked Susan standing up.

"There is not much time. Ideally the Ritual would completed during the night following the longest day," said Jennifer. "At least, that's what we believe the manuscripts say."

"Manuscripts?" asked Susan.

"Yes, we were able to recover some manuscripts, though translating them as been difficult. I'll have them brought out for you, perhaps you might understand them better than we," said Chiron.

"But the Summer Solstice was over two months ago," interjected Tyler.

"The Summer Solstice may be passed, but Queen Susan, do you remember when Narnia celebrated the Day of Long Light?" prompted Chiron.

"Of course, during the height of the Month of Golden Light," said Susan effortlessly. Comprehension spread across her face, as she continued, "That would be August 15th or 16th."

"Our calculations give August 15th," said Jennifer. "On August 15th, the world will be saved, or it will fall."

"But that doesn't make any sense," said Susan, crinkling her eyebrows. " What guarantee do we have that it will be the Day of Golden Light? A thousand years passed in Narnia the same time forty years passed here. Then thirteen hundred years fled past in a single year. Time does not run parallel between worlds."

"It does not matter whether or not if it is the Day of Golden Light or not. What matters is that the Mistress believes it to be," said Jennifer. "We do not have much intelligence, but we do know that the pretender plans to complete the Ritual on August 15th."

"Today is August 1st," said Tyler. "That gives like two weeks to save the world. Do we even know where the pretender is?"

"We have no specific location," said Chiron, "But we know that an army is amassing in England. We can only assume that is where the Mistress is."

"And were does your information come from?" asked Jake.

"We had a spy, but we lost contact four days ago," said Jennifer.

"We have fourteen days to get to England, and search the entire country for a single person?" asked Susan, sitting back down. "That's like searching for a needle in a burning haystack. I just came from England, it took us ten days. Even the fastest ships will take us five days."

"This is our last chance," said Chiron. "A quest was sent to stop this Mistress, but the quest has failed. If we are to have any hope, a new quest must be given."

"A quest?" questioned Susan.

"A hero is given a quest when times are dark," explained Jake, glad to be in familiar territory, "A hero can chose up to two companions. Once the quest is completed, the hero and companions return to Camp, and we have one Hades of a party."

"But first, a Prophecy," said Jennifer. She closed her eyes and placed her hands in her lap, palms facing heavenwards. A green mist, as heavy as the air in the oilseed rape fields that surrounded the Professor's house, engulfed Jennifer. When she opened her eyes, they glowed green. At long last Jennifer spoke in a voice that hinted of ancient times:

_"You shall journey East by West to the one who trusts  
There await the return of the Valiant and Just.  
From hence you shall face the trial of Turkish Delight,  
To be greeted by the dawn night._

_The Magnificent will be lost, wisdom beyond aid.  
Those who doubt to the trust must be swayed.  
An ancient debt the lost will pay.  
The Gentle forsaken for the rest of days."_

The mist faded. Sunlight returned to the small room. In the heavy silence, Susan could hear the sounds of demigods bustling around the Camp.

"So how are we getting to England?" Susan broke the silence. If anyone noticed that she looked paler than even a native of Britain had right to be, they said nothing.

"I normally don't give aid to Quests," started Chiron, before giving a sly smile. "But then never before has a mortal Queen from another world been given a quest. I can call some older demigods, who might be able to fly you. Then we can have you in England within three days. If not, I'm sure we can find funding enough to send you, and your two chosen companions across on the fastest ship."

"So who are your chosen?" asked Tyler. "Because I'd like to put in a request for consideration."

Susan smiled and then turned to Jake. "I would volunteer but I'm already required for a mission," said Jake apologetically.

"Do you have any recommendations?" Susan deferred judgement to Chiron. But before Chiron could reply, a girl's face appeared in the open window.

"I'll go!" she volunteered.

"Cleo!" admonished Chiron as the slip of a girl jumped into the room through the window. When she stood up, Susan had to admit she was not particularly impressive. She was neither unusually tall or abnormally short. Her brown hair was pulled back in a serviceable plait. Yet as Susan looked into her brown eyes, she recognized a seasoned warrior. While she could not see the girl in an archery corp, Susan would not be surprised to find her amongst Peter's reserves. Despite her slender frame, it was clear she had strength enough to wield the short sword that hung on at her waist.

"How much did you hear?" asked Tyler hostilely.

"Enough to know that my Grandpa wasn't as senile as everyone thought he was," said Cleo with a small smirk. "He never spoke about Narnia, until the very end. That was when he started telling anyone that would listen that he used to be a Lord of Telmar, in Narnia."

"So you're a Telemarine too?" asked Jennifer softly.

"Only a quarter," Cleo shrugged. "Grandma had no idea what Grandpa was talking about, so I'm assuming that she wasn't from Narnia."

"Seems like a pretty odd coincidence that you'd be a Telemarine. Just how many people from other worlds are there?" demanded Jake.

"Impossible to know," said Jennifer. "I don't know how many Telemarines walked though the Door, but my parents and I were all alone when we crossed over. I suspect Aslan staggered our arrival as to upset the balance of this world."

Jake looked at Susan expectantly, "I don't know how many Telemarines crossed over. My siblings and I were the first to crossover to prove that it wasn't a death trap."

"No less than two-hundred," estimated Jennifer. "That's what my parents always thought. They found a few of their friends in time."

"And as Jennifer said earlier, magic attracts magic; it's not coincidence that Telemarines would be attracted to the Greek world," theorized Susan.

"So can I go with you?"

"I see no reason why not," said Susan, looking at Chiron, who nodded at her. "But first I would appreciate a proper introduction. I am Susan Pevensie, Daughter of Eve."

"Sorry, um, I'm Cleo Rudel, Daughter of Ares, God of War," said Cleo blushing slightly.

"I'm most glad to be count you an ally, Cleo," said Susan as she stood up. "If that is all, I would like to practice my archery, if that were at all possible."

"Yes, I believe that takes care of everything," said Chiron, shifting his weight. "I think it best if you spend the night in the Big House. I'll have a room made up for you."

"And the manuscripts?" prompted Susan.

"Yes, I'll have the manuscripts sent up," said Chiron. "Tyler, why don't you show Queen Susan the Archery Range?"

"Sure," mumbled Tyler before asking, "What do _you_ need practice for?"

* * *

**AN:** So here it is Chapter 3, and it's only been a week! Next week, things should pick up pace when Susan meets her first Greek god (any guess to who?) This again is un-betaed, so please forgive any mistakes that you see (and point them out if you can). Once I finish this story (which is planned to be 10-11 chapters), I will probably go back and clean things up; my current goal is write a complete multichapter fic. Thank you for all your kind reviews as they are what keep me writing.

I hope everyone has a great week.


	4. Journey to the How

**Chapter 4: Journey to the How  
**_In Which Susan Meets a God And Hitches a Ride_

* * *

Four hours later Susan retired to the guest room. The room was simple; the walls were wallpapered with stylized sunflowers, a single bare lightbulb hung overhead. The small space was dominated by a queen size bed, a nightstand on either side. Her muscles ached, unused to vigorous exercise and unaccustomed to riding in this world. Weary she leaned the bow Tyler had provided from the armory against the wall. She smiled when she saw a Narnian style cotton night shift and silk dressing gown lying on the turned down sheets. Next to them, as promised, were the old manuscripts.

Gingerly Susan picked up the first piece of brittle parchment. She skimmed the sheet; without doubt she knew that she would be unable to decipher the old markings. It was as foreign to her as the ancient Greek scattered across Camp Half-Blood. Yet the markings seemed eerily familiar. She could not shake the feeling that she had seen similar etchings elsewhere. With great care, she flipped through the other pieces of parchment but it was all the same jumble of nonsense to her.

Suddenly the events of the day caught with Susan. Had it really only been noon this same day that she wandered away from the dull tea party? Did she actually fought a minotaur and Medusa, discovered a world within a world, and found long lost friends? Did she truly fly half way up the American coast? With a choked hysterical laugh Susan placed the manuscripts on her nightstand. Quickly she disrobed and put her night shift on. She half-heartedly folded her ruined outfit; the seamstress in her knew they were beyond repair. English clothing was not suited for the Narnian lifestyle. She turned off the light and crawled between the sheets. She closed her eyes; within moments she was asleep.

_She awakes the the soft rustle of trees walking gracefully through the night. Wait, trees cannot move! She looks around her. She is disoriented. Where is she? Oh right. She's in _Narnia_, the impossible land inside a _Wardrobe_! Lucy sleeps fitfully only a few feet away._

_"Susan! Susan!" Lucy calls in a harsh whisper. She turns just in time to see the unmistakable shadow of a lion – the Lion – pass by. She follows Lucy. Together they stalk the Lion. The Lion turns to them. They exchange muffled words. Together they walk. The Lion bids them to return to camp. They ignore his warning. With growing dread, they find an overlook to witness the Ritual. Horrid monsters taken from childhood nightmares roar as the Lion is humiliated. _

_She cannot watch. She cannot look away. The White Witch chants in a language that Susan both does not understand, yet fully comprehends – words of evil. The price of sacrifice is made clear. The Lion is dragged onto the Stone Table, a relic of times long forgotten, engraved with words none can read. The White Witch raises the blade, all is silent. With bated breath the White White begins to plunge the dagger –_

Susan woke up. Her face was covered in sweat. Her hands shook. She took a gulp of air, a futile attempt to control her breathing. She has not had this nightmare in years, not since the early years of their first time in Narnia. Even Edmund rarely had nightmares about Aslan's sacrifice and the ensuing battle since their return to England.

After she collected herself, Susan noticed that the sun was already at the midmorning mark. She slipped the silk dressing gown on, not seeing anything else viable to wear. She followed the faint voices downstairs to the kitchen.

Tyler and Cleo sat in full battle gear on a bench against one wall. Jennifer, dressed in a rainbow tie-dyed dress, was cooking bacon and scrambled eggs on a gas stove. Chiron was talking to someone through a strange image inside a rainbow.

"Good morning, Susan," greeted Jennifer brightly without turning around. "Did you sleep well?"

Susan tucked her still trembling left hand into the deep pocket of her dressing gown. Then replied honestly, "Not so well as I had hoped."

"Was the bed uncomfortable?" inquired Cleo. "Because at least you had a bed. If you were a demigod, we'd have shoved you in the Hermes Cabin and then you'd be on the floor for sure."

"No," Susan assured her, "just a recurring nightmare. Nothing else."

"A nightmare?" asked Chiron; the mist image was gone.

"An old one." Looking the centaur in the eye, she elaborated, "It is one of my earliest and therefore most persistent of nightmares."

"Your majesty, I am not as familiar with your nightmares as I was with your brothers'."

"It is of no importance," she waved her right hand dismissively. "I looked at the manuscripts and I am sorry to say that I do not understand them. How were you able to decipher anything at all?"

"Foreign languages are nothing more than complex codes. Athena's Cabin, in collaboration with Ares' Cabin, have been working on the manuscript for weeks," said Cleo. Tyler looked at Cleo in surprise. "Oh come on, Ares' cabin isn't exactly filled with morons. Code breaking happens to be a very vital part of warfare."

"She is correct," Jennifer chipped in. "The eggs are done." Jennifer distributed the scrambled eggs and bacon on five plates. "Come and get it."

Tyler and Cleo each grabbed two plates, while Susan took a single plate for herself to the table. Jennifer brought over a collection of mismatching silverware.

"I have arranged for your passage to England with an old camper. He's a son of Poseidon so it should only take two days to cross the Atlantic," announced Chiron after everyone started to eat. "But he won't be able to make here until late afternoon, early evening."

"Good." Cleo counted briefly on her hands. "That gives us ten, eleven days in England to search for, find, and eliminate this Mistress. No problem."

"Hey Susan, since it seems like we have some time to spare, could you give me a few pointers with the bow?" asked Tyler. "I mean, I'd appreciate it if you could show me a trick or two."

"I was rather hoping to be able to speak with Chiron," declined Susan. She raised her eyes to Chiron, "My brother always valued your counsel."

"It would be my honor, your majesty. Though I warn you my judgement has often erred, more so since your disappearance."

"Our judgement too has erred in the past two years," admitted Susan. "But I suspect that the time of salvation is near. Just as Aslan forgave Edmund's treason you shall find His love and mercy abundant when the appointed time is at hand."

"Your words, as always, ease my heart."

"Now, I must ask, are there any clothes that I might borrow? I am afraid that my clothes from yesterday are in no shape to be worn."

"Of course," said Jennifer. "I have some of my mother's dresses and they should fit you fine. She always hoped that I would wear them but unfortunately I never grew to match her height. Additionally I'm not one for the Narnian style."

Susan agreed that Jennifer would not be suited to the muted colors favored by the Telemarines. She bowed her head in appreciation of the offer, "I would be most grateful."

"I put some fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to take a shower."

"You are most kind."

Breakfast finished quickly as everyone ate briskly. Cleo volunteered to do the dishes. Jennifer ushered Susan upstairs. Chiron disappeared to continue his usual duties. Under the warm water of the shower Susan felt her muscles relax. The running water was vastly different compared to the warm baths in cramp tubs she was accustomed to after battle. Indoor plumbing was one of few advantages Spare Oom had over Narnia. Economically she cleaned herself; then she spared a few moments to enjoy the luxury.

When she emerged from the shower, she felt a world better. Her left hand had stopped shaking, her lingering fears faded. Her muscles were still sore but no longer throbbed. She toweled herself dry. She then plaited her long black hair and wound the braid around her head, a makeshift crown.

When she entered the guest room once more there was a large Narnian style trunk at the foot of the bed. She opened the trunk. Inside was a great many dresses and matching accessories in the Telemarine style. She selected a simple dark forest green dress.

She put the dress on. Looking in the mirror she was surprised at the similarities, in the Telemarine style and the Old Narnian style that she was accustomed to, in the everyday dress. Based upon the formal wear they had worn at Caspian's coronation, she had been expecting the dress to be tight, confining, and ridiculously over modest. But instead the dress was graceful and free flowing, the skirt flaring from her hips, despite the dark color.

"My father was a Telemarine Lord who supported Lord Miraz, but my mother was a lady of Archenland," said Jennifer from the doorframe. She had opened the door without Susan's notice. "Their marriage was an arranged one but they found happiness; even more so when they crossed into this world and their politics no longer divided them."

"I would very much like to meet your parents."

"Perhaps, someday," said Jennifer wistfully. She then handed Susan a leather satchel. "Take whatever you can carry. My mother has no more need for them, whatever you want is yours."

"Thank you." Jennifer then disappeared leaving Susan alone.

Susan selected several practical dresses; she folded them carefully before she placed them in the satchel. She smiled, when she noticed that the bag would hold far more then its dimensions would belie. Unfortunately, when she lifted the bag, she realized the weight of the contents was not magically diminished. Deciding that she only needed clothes for two weeks, she narrowed her selection to four particularly hardy dresses. After refolding the remaining dresses, Susan noticed a small jewelry pouch tucked in the corner of the trunk.

She picked it up. She untied the leather draw strings. Gently she pulled out several choice pieces of jewelry, including a lady's signet ring. Susan's eyes widened as she recognized the ring as the one that adorned Lucy's right hand during their reign. The insignia was worn, barely recognizable and the gold was dull; nevertheless it was the same ring. Susan slipped it on her own finger, vowing to return it to her sister.

Susan replaced the other jewelry, that while beautiful had no significance to her personally. She then returned the dresses to the trunk and lowered the heavy lid.

She slung the satchel on her back. She shifted the weight before she decided she satisfied with the weight. She picked up the bow from where it still leaned against the wall, and made her way downstairs.

However before she reached the bottom of the stairs, a bright glare of light exploded filling the entire house. Yet Susan felt no need to cover her eyes, like Cleo who was walking past the bottom of the stairs. An unnatural silence filled the camp, and then Susan could discern the unmistakable sound of a crowd gathering.

Tyler emerged from the kitchen. Cleo, Tyler, and Susan moved together to walk outside to see what was going on. Susan gasped when Cleo opened the door. Standing in the clearing in front of the farm house was none other than the radiant Southern Sun, brightest star of Narnia.

"Dad?" whispered Tyler uncertain, looking at the man who shone with a brilliance brighter than Susan imagined from the stories the stars told of their king.

"Lord Apollo," greeted Chiron, emerging from among the crowd of demigods who genuflected at the sight of the sun god. Apollo ignored the centaur instead looking intently at Susan.

To the astonishment of everyone, the god gave a shallow bow to Susan. "My Queen." Susan returned with a deep curtsy of her own as befitting a mortal to an immortal regardless of title. Only Aslan himself contained more raw power than the gods.

"Father, what brings you here?" asked Tyler hesitantly.

"Queen Susan the Gentle, at your coronation you were given to me, and now I come to fulfill the duty Aslan gave me."

Susan smiled remembering her coronation. Indeed each monarch was given to a compass direction and guardian. Lucy had always been comfortable on the glistening Eastern Sea and more than once the sea itself had defended her from pirates as she travelled between the various islands. Edmund equally felt safest in the great Western Woods, where the trees protected him from harm. Susan had always taken comfort in the sunshine, but never had she imagined that she would meet the radiant Southern Sun in the flesh.

"I know not the words to speak," admitted Susan, choked.

"Then let me speak," said Apollo stepping closer. He took Susan's hand. "Time is short if Narnia is to be spared the bloodshed of invasion. I cannot see the Mistress, who gathers her army in the dark, but I can take you and your two chosen companions to England. As the Sun, I must travel East to West therefore it will take until noon in England to travel there, but there is no faster path to take."

"I humbly accept your offer," said Susan. "I am ready to depart now. Are you two ready?" She asked Cleo and Tyler. They nodded, before quickly disappearing into the house. They came back a moment later, each with a small pack and a weapon of choice. Tyler handed Susan a quiver with a dozen arrows. Apollo gestured grandly towards his chariot which had morphed into a small bi-plane.

"All abroad Apollo's Aerial Express."

Everything had been stowed in the undercarriage, when Jennifer came out of the Big House with the manuscripts. "Something tells me, that you may still yet find use for these." She handed them to Susan, along with Cleo, had already climbed into the back two seats and buckled in.

Tyler and Apollo then climbed into the front two seats. Apollo quickly gave his son an overview of the controls, before grandly waving at the awestruck campers. With a flick of a switch, the plane rose as only magic infused objects could, straight up for twenty meters before taking a steep incline. Within seconds Camp Half-Blood was gone, as they flew through the blue skies.

"Well that's the first part of the prophecy," shouted Cleo to Susan over the rush of wind.

"Of course, '_You shall journey East by West_'." _'But who is the one who trusts?'_ Susan wondered half to herself, and half as a prayer to the Lion. Conversation was near impossible with the wind, so with wisdom earned on many a war campaign, Susan closed her eyes and fell into slumber.

* * *

**AN**: I LIVE! Thank you to anyone reading this, after the rather long and unexpected hiatus. I'm afraid to say though that such hiatuses should be expected. It turns out that getting a degree is actually a lot of work. Who knew? But at least I've avoided hospitals this time round. ;-) As getting good grades is a priority, this story is likely to be touch and go. But don't worry, I have it planned to the end and it will be eventually finished. (It's planned to be 10/11 chapters).

And just a note. I am very easy to guilt. Believe or not, your reviews demanding new chapters give me guilt which motivates me to continue writing, even when my brain has been broken by E.D.T. (the ultimate villain in my life right now). Thank you!

(Please note, that in order to post this, my proof reading has not been as thorough as I would personally like. Thank you for enduring my poor writing.)

Oh yeah! Happy St. Valentine's Day.


	5. There's a Place for Us

**Chapter 5: There's A Place For Us  
**_In Which Susan and Co. Find a Place to Spend the Night_

* * *

_A soft wind caresses her face as she stands in the open field. A shaft of sunlight illuminates the Kings and Queens as they process forward, leading their subjects, so diverse – Talking Animals, Walking Trees, Nymphs, Dwarves, Centaurs, Fauns, Gryphons – and yet united as one – Narnians in service of the Lion._

_It is the solemn march that marks the beginning of spring, the end of winter. It is a time of remembrance. A time of repentance and forgiveness. It is a time of freedom. The procession halts at the boundary of a simple circle made of small, river-smoothed stones. The High King removes his sword from its scabbard. He plunges the blade deep into the soft earth; he genuflects and places his head on the pummel. The Just King falls prostrate._

_The two Queens pause to remove their shoes before they step forward. They alone are allowed to move towards the broken stone table in the center of the circle that their citizens have surrounded. They alone have the terrible privilege to walk upon the hallow ground._

_With measured paces, they walk up the steps to the altar of sacrifice. Tears fill the younger's eyes as she recalls the sound of a stone blade ripping through flesh. The elder's shines as she remembers the dread and despair of the Lion's Death, unknowing of his triumph. Once they reach the top, they kneel. The Valiant Queen stretches her arms outward, and turns her face heavenward. The Gentle Queen looks down at the worn carved words. Her finger tenderly traces the verses written in a language so ancient none could recall its meaning._

_Together they rise. Susan walks to the opposite side of the alter. The sisters then turn their backs to each other, such that they face outwards. In unity, the words pour forth:_

_'By His Blood, Narnia was ransomed.  
By His Sacrifice, Narnia was freed.  
By His Resurrection, Narnia was saved.'_

_The Narnians replied as one._

_'We who are not worthy thank the Lion.  
We who are not worthy praise the Lion.  
We who are not worthy follow the Lion.'_

_The Just King then stood –_

But before he could begin the song that would start a three day dance, Susan woke up. She glanced over to look at Cleo. The young warrior was fast asleep. Curiously, Susan looked outside the small bi-plane.

She held back a quick gasp at the marvels that flung past the plane. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if perhaps if she was still dreaming when they passed a billowing cloud fortress, ornate enough to rival Cair Paravel. She gave a royal flourish in return to the waves given by what appeared to cloud nymphs.

Though the wind continued to roar, sometimes it lessened and she could hear Tyler speaking animately with his father. As she dozed back into sleep, she could have sworn that the conversation was completely in rhyming verse.

_"Do you think we'll ever go back?" she asks her elder brother after their mother has sent their younger siblings to bed. The bedtime ritual chafes Lucy and Edmund. Every day, the life of a school girl constricts tighter and the royal queen slips further away. It has only been three months but already her adulthood feels like a distant dream._

_"The professor believes we will," replies Peter, as he rubs his bruised shoulder. Not too many boys his age fall down a flight of stairs, tripped by too _small _feet._

_"But do you believe?" Peter turns his eyes, bright with the curiosity of boyhood weighed down by the blood of battles, towards Susan._

_"Yes. I do believe. After all, 'Once a King or Queen, Always a King or Queen'."_

_"But what if, what if we're meant to be Kings and Queens in this world?"_

_Peter laughs, "We're just children in this world. No one would believe us."_

"Hey Susan! We're here," Cleo shook Susan awake. She opened her groggy eyes. Had it already been nineteen hours? She looked down to her right hand, to the golden signet ring. Aslan's words ringing clear in her head. 'Once a King or Queen, Always a King or Queen.' Except for the first time, the words did not fill her with comfort. Rather a dread crept into her heart. But she brushed it aside with practiced ease; she was no stranger to doubt.

"Here is where I must leave you," said the god as he helped Susan out of the plane. She grimaced as she sunk an inch into mud. Although Apollo's presence created an artificial circle of sunlight she could see just beyond the circumference of sunshine the dreary rain that she had almost come to miss while in America. Almost. He then stood patiently as they gathered their supplies from the undercarriage.

"Before I forget." Apollo snapped his fingers. The simple quiver and unstrung bow Susan had slung on her back shimmered before transforming into a golden apple blossom pendant that hung around her neck on a simple chain. "If you require the bow, all you need to do is tug on the pendant. It'll transform, ready for battle. Though it is no substitute for your Christmas gift, it should suffice in this world."

Apollo turned back towards the open undercarriage, and pulled out a small bag. He handed the bag to Susan. "I was entrusted with this at the Fall of Narnia. I now return it to you."

He then turned his attention to his son. "A companion to the Queen should be appropriately armed." A golden bow and matching quiver manifested in front of Tyler. Before Tyler could grab the items, they transformed in a flash of light into leather bracers, one for each wrist.

"Daughter of Ares, I have no gift for you, but I give you my blessing for this quest." Cleo bowed her head as Apollo placed a gentle hand on her forehead. "Go forth, and let the Lion guide you."

If Cleo was disappointed, she did not let it show as she meekly thanked the god. With that, the plane morphed back into a chariot, which Apollo then mounted. Susan saluted the King of Stars as he took to flight. As she predicted, once he was gone past, the clouds removed evidence of sunlight. Within moments they were all damp from the light mist.

"What's that?" Tyler pointed to the small bag in Susan's hand. Susan unwound the rope drawing the bag shut.

"It's the Royal Tent," she said with a secret grin as she drew the bag tight after glimpsing inside. "Crafted by the dwarfs and nymphs it was unique in all the world. Although it appears to be a modest tent, inside it is large enough to host an entire war campaign. It was often used in tangent with a decoy tent, such that our enemies never knew where we slept at night."

"Cool."

"So where to now?" asked Cleo, waving her arms. Tyler looked at Susan expectantly.

"I don't know," admitted Susan.

"Do you at least know where we are?" questioned Cleo softly.

"No."

"But you live here!" protested Tyler.

"As you live in America, but I doubt that you could identify exactly where you are at any given place. I've lived my entire life, well that is to say my entire life in this world in the city of London, except for the brief time with the professor."

"So we don't know where we are?" summarized Cleo.

"No, but I suspect that there might be a road just past that hedgerow, and all roads go somewhere. It can't be more than a few miles to the nearest village, and we can get our bearings from there," said Susan.

"Did anyone bring an umbrella?" asked Tyler as the mud squelched under boot as they walked along the hedgerow to find a gate. Cleo and Susan both pointedly ignored him.

It only took a few moments to locate a kissing gate. Unfortunately a large pool of mud had formed in the gate. With a sigh, Susan lifted her skirt and treaded through the sludge, grateful that she was wearing boots instead of the high heels her mother had provided her in America.

A short walk later, they found themselves at a crossroad. A small fingerpost identified four small villages.

"Lower Slaughter? What type of name is that for a place?" asked Tyler.

"It comes from the old English word 'slough' for a wet place," replied Susan off handedly, "And it's also where the professor moved to."

"The professor?"

"Professor Diggory Kirke, the first boy to enter Narnia. It cannot be coincidence that Apollo has delivered us so close to his home. If nothing else, it is a place for us to set up camp until we figure out what we need to do."

"So off we go?" Tyler started to walk down the path pointed out by the finger post, but Cleo shouted, "STOP!"

"What's the matter?"

"This signpost has been changed, quite recently." Cleo pointed to the bottom of the wooden post. "Probably in anticipation of an invasion. You know to confuse the Nazi Army. It's what I would have done."

"So we have no idea where we are?"

"Not quite," muttered Susan. "This sign has only been rotated." Susan pointed to the curving marks of mud at the base. "So we know that Lower Slaughter is only two miles away. We also know that Lower Slaughter is _not_ that way."

"So we just have to take a lucky pick of three ways?"

"You said that Slaughter comes from Old English meaning 'wet place' and water doesn't exactly flow uphill," Cleo reasoned, "which would suggest down. Therefore we want to take that path as a first educated guess." She directed towards the path that sloped gently downhill.

"Alright, I'll buy that," said Tyler before leading the way down the chosen road.

For the next forty minutes, Cleo interrogated Susan about her Telemarine ancestors, drinking the stories of her third cousin twice removed King Caspian.

When they walked into the small village, Susan was surprised that none of the villagers spared them a second glance. Surely three strangers dressed as characters lost in time would earn a suspicious glare or two, especially in the atmosphere of wartime.

"It's the Mist," answered Cleo, when Susan voiced her doubts. "You can see through it, but most mortals can't. We should be fine unless a monster attacks. It's hard to tell exactly what mortals see through the Mist, and more often than not we get blamed."

"So where's this Professor's house?" asked Tyler.

"I'll ask," said Susan, turning to walk to an older man working in his garden despite the light drizzle. "Excuse me sir, but would you know where Professor Kirke lives?"

"Turn left ahead. His cottage is the last on the left."

"Cheers."

Susan led Cleo and Tyler to the described cottage. Taking a deep breath, she raised a closed fist and knocked heavily on the old wooden door.

The professor, looking much as Susan remembered him – white beard and all – stood gobsmacked for a moment after opening the door.

"Susan?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes, Professor."

"What are you doing here? Are your parents alright? Why aren't you in America?"

"It's a long story, with an oddly Narnian flavor," replied Susan. "It would seem that Aslan has work for me in this world. If you let us inside, my companions and I will gladly tell the story."

"Of course, dear." The professor moved to the side to allow the trio into his cottage. He stoked the fire in the small sitting room.

"Professor, where is my brother?" asked Susan, after she claimed the seat closest to the fire. Cleo and Tyler, awkwardly sat on the love chair opposite.

"He left yesterday to visit Lucy, and Edmund in Cambridge."

"Well, in that case may I introduce my new allies, Cleo Rudel, daughter of Ares and Tyler Jackson, son of Apollo."

"Demigods?" Diggory raised an eyebrow. "In this world?"

"Yeah, all those Greeks stories are real," said Tyler.

"And such begins my story..." Over the course of several hours Susan told her story that began but two or three days ago. It was getting hard to keep track; time seemed to slip by just as it did in Narnia.

"Why this is almost incredible! To imagine ancient living legends in this world all this time and I never suspected. And now Narnia is once again in danger, and it is from this world that we must save her."

"Yes, it is almost incredible," acknowledged Susan. "But Aslan's promise still remains true."

"Oh," said Diggory, "How are _you_ supposed to lead the Narnians home if you have been banished from Narnia?"

"Banished?" cried Cleo. "You didn't say that you were banished!"

"Banished, is not the word that I would have chosen, but yes it remains true that I cannot return to Narnia."

"Why not?"

"Aslan told my brother and me that we had learned all that Narnia could teach us and that it was now our mission to seek Him out in the world of our birth."

"But your siblings, King Edmund and Queen Lucy, you said that they were still to return to Narnia. Maybe we just have to send them a message," suggested Tyler.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," said the Professor. "Peter left because he received a telegram from Ed and Lucy saying that they had gone to Narnia with Eustace. They too will not be returning."

"Eustace? Eustace Scrubb? Surely you do not mean my cousin?"

"Yes, it would appear that your cousin was chosen. It is unclear whether or not he will return to Narnia. As a necessity the telegram was short and abbreviated. Hence Peter's haste to visit Cambridge. It is his intention to bring Lucy, Edmund and Eustace back to spend a night or two. Somehow, he's gotten the innkeeper to agree to lend them a room in exchange for working a couple of shifts at the pub."

"It will be most gratifying to hear of news of Narnia, but for now I suppose we must focus on the mission at hand," said Susan reaching into her bag. She pulled out the old manuscripts. "So far our only lead is some old manuscripts. The demigods have managed to decode some of the script, but I was curious if you could read them."

"If demigods cannot read them, why would I be able to?" questioned the Professor even as he reached for his reading glasses dangling around his neck.

"It's just a theory of mine," said Susan as she handed the paper over.

"Well the handwriting is rather archaic, but it appears to be written in English." Looking up, the Professor asked, "Is this some kind of joke?"

"What do you mean, it's in English?" questioned Cleo. "I spent weeks decoding that!"

"It's not in English," replied Susan. "It's Magic."

"Huh?" Tyler was just plain confused.

"Professor Kirk, when my siblings and I found ourselves in Narnia, we could communicate with Narnians, Telmarines**, **Calormenes, well truly all nations in standard English," explained Susan. "When you were in Charn, you read a sign tempting you to ring the bell which awoke the White White. A sign written in English in a separate world, seems rather unlikely.

"Additionally, when my siblings and I returned to our home, our mother would often accuse of us speaking nonsense. The only logical explanation, is that the Deep Magic allows for translation of other foreign languages into one's native Tongue."

"But then why couldn't you read it?" asked Cleo.

"I have never been to Charn, therefore the Deep Magic has never granted me the ability to read that language, unlike the Professor who was quite possibly among the last to walk among that doomed world."

"That does make sense," conceded the Professor.

"So what does it say?" asked Tyler.

"It will take me awhile to transpose this. The writing is rather fanciful and my eyes aren't as young as they used to be."

"In any case, it's rather late." The large grandfather clock chimed six. "Would you mind if we spent the night here?"

"If you do not mind sleeping on the floor. There's a reason I'm not hosting Lucy and Edmund."

"That will not be necessary. Apollo has gifted us with the Royal Tent from the Golden Age of Narnia. It will easily fit in your back garden and it will provide more than sufficient space," said Susan.

"If you don't mind the chill."

"While not as magnificent as a kingdom inside a wardrobe, the dimensions are deceiving. There are no less than three fireplaces within the tent," explained Susan. "Which reminds me. I'm ever so curious to know. What exactly do we look like to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you have yet to comment on our attire, and considering Cleo and Tyler are dressed in armour little improved upon since the days of ancient Greece and I, myself, am wearing a Narnian dress, I was curious to this omission."

The professor gave them a critical look, before jolting backwards. "By the Lion's Mane! How did I not notice before?"

"The Mist. It hides all sorts of things," answered Cleo. "But I guess, it's easy enough to see through if you know what you're looking for."

"Indeed," muttered Susan. "Well, why don't you two set up the tent in the back garden, and I'll assist the Professor in making dinner."

"Um, just how are we suppose to set up the tent?" questioned Tyler.

"Just set it up as you would a normal tent. If the Magic holds true than it arrange its inside by itself."

Professor Kirke showed Cleo and Tyler to the back garden, before walking into the small kitchen, where Susan had already started chopping vegetables.

"You have not told them have you?" observed the Professor, as he sat down at the kitchen table, content to watch Susan cook.

"No," replied Susan in understanding. "I have not. Though, Belarus, a faun, mentioned my title, I doubt that Tyler will make the connection."

"You will have to tell them."

"Yes, I suppose I should but honestly, I'm trying not to dwell upon the prophecy too much."

"Do you believe it to be true?"

"Yes." Susan tucked into a cupboard to pull out a small container of oil and a large frying pan. Once she was standing tall again, she continued, "So far we have completed the first two stanzas."

"And who is this one who trusts then?" asked the Professor with a twinkle in his eye.

"Do you really need to ask?" Susan lit the gas stove. "Who else who believe a little girl, and later four siblings about a world in a wardrobe? Furthermore who would allow a girl, supposedly on the far side of the Atlantic, and two strangers into their home without question in the mist of war?"

After a moment of silence, the professor took a deep breath. But before he could ask his question, Tyler and Cleo came into the kitchen.

"What are you cooking?" queried Tyler.

"Fried vegetables, a favorite of the southern giants," replied Susan. She turned off the flame, and distributed the food between four plates. Cleo and Tyler each grabbed two plates and sat at the table with the professor, while Susan transferred the pan to the sink.

Susan sat down and bowed her head. "Aslan be praised." The professor echoed her blessing, while the two demigods whispered their own prayers to their parents.

"Where you able to put the tent up?" asked Susan after taking her first bite. Tyler nodded.

"But I think we're going to have to do some dusting before bed," said Cleo.

"Yeah, it's like all the dust in the world is being stored in there!"

"Well, I cause it _has_ been a thousand years, give or take, since it was last used."

"I have some cleaning supplies," offered the Professor.

* * *

**AN**: So it's been less than two months this time! :-) I'm sorry that this is rather a filler chapter. I promise some action in the next two chapters. (Any guesses to what the 'trial of turkish delight' will be?)

If anyone wants to know what took so long, I must confess that this chapter sort of ran away to places it was not meant to be. (I was rather frustrated with school and suddenly, without explanation, Susan found herself escaping from a prisoner of war camp, which was not part of the plan and would have thrown everything off course).

Thank you so much for your heartfelt reviews. They really do give me courage (as I struggle to keep my head above water in my courses, reviews are a safety line in more than one way). I'm sorry that I have been unable to reply to them personally. However I felt that you would rather that I work towards an update (this story is being written fifty words at a time or so it seems to me, but I will reach the end!)

As the end of the semester comes closer, an update may not be forthcoming soon, but with any luck it should be less than a month. (Though, no promises!)

And if you have read this far, you are to be commended for your perseverance. Thank you! :-D


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